


What’s in a Name?

by Much_Ado_Abt_Novels



Series: Mechanics and Mandalorians [6]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:36:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28123212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Much_Ado_Abt_Novels/pseuds/Much_Ado_Abt_Novels
Summary: You confront Mando about telling you his name, which goes badly. Then Mando uses you as bait on a mission, and things get worse.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Reader, Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Series: Mechanics and Mandalorians [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2052387
Comments: 20
Kudos: 312





	What’s in a Name?

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a smut series that reads better in order.

Mando’s “co-pilot” seat didn’t deserve the moniker. It was a full three feet behind the pilot’s chair, placed like an afterthought, as if the _Razor Crest’s_ engineer, like its current owner, was used to doing things alone.

You were curled up there now with the baby, smiling as he made gentle cooing sounds. You scratched his head absentmindedly. “So why is it that Mandalorians can’t show their faces, anyway? I mean, what’s the reasoning behind it?”

Mando paused whatever he was doing—charting a course, you suspected. “What’s brought this on?”

“Just making conversation. I’m curious.”

He wasn’t thrilled by your choice in casual discourse. “The helmet is an outward signifier that I’m committed to this way of life. To remove it is a betrayal of the creed. And the creed ordains that helmets are kept on and names shared sparingly to preserve anonymity. I’m a Mandalorian; that’s my identity. It doesn’t matter what race or species you are, where you come from or who you were before, if you’re a Mandalorian now.”

“Very honorable,” you said. You probably shouldn’t have pressed the issue, but you were riled up over his distant behavior lately. “No individuality because you’re all the same, interchangeable to the outside world.”

Mando kept pressing buttons, face resolutely on the screens in front of him, but there was tension in all his movements.

“So, if I wanted to fuck another Mandalorian, you’d let me?”

“Watch your language in front of the kid.”

“You’ve never been so concerned for his innocent ears before.” But you silently agreed. No more cursing near the baby. You left the little guy on the chair and leaned against the dashboard next to Mando, where he had to acknowledge your presence. “Answer the question. Can I sleep with any Mando since you’re all interchangeable?”

“If you find one, be sure to let me know.” He bit off the words like they tasted of poison.

You begged. “I want to get to know you. Please tell me your name. ‘Mando’ is so impersonal.” You grimaced. “But I suppose that’s the point.” You looked at your hands so you wouldn’t have to face his single, austere expression. “Why don’t you trust me?”

His silence could mean he was thinking about it, or it could mean the conversation was over.

“I don’t want any Mandalorian,” you tried again. “I want _you_.”

He typed something, then flicked two switches. “We’re heading for a new planet, near the Core Worlds, where the bounty is hiding out. Sit back down before I make the jump to hyperspace.”

Sit back down in the chair for useless passengers, safely out of sight and mind. “I think I’ll go below deck, instead.” You picked up the child, blinking back stupid tears. “Come on, little guy.”

After closing the door behind you, you thought you heard a dull thunk, like a fist hitting metal.

\---

Maybe you shouldn’t have been so harsh. The Way was important to him; you knew that. Why did you have to go and challenge it, potentially ruining the fantastic thing you had going on?

When he came to you that night, you drank the apology from his lips, blindfolded.

“I’m sorry it has to be like this,” he whispered, cradling your face.

“I know you are.” You ran your hands over his body, charting the familiar scars. “I’m sorry for giving you a hard time. And this is enough. I promise that this is more than enough for me.” You meant it. You were selfish for asking him to abandon his upbringing, his religion.

He kissed you long and slow, until he felt you smile against his mouth. “What is it?” he asked.

“You shaved.”

“This morning. Do you like it?”

You brushed his smooth chin. “I prefer you with a bit of stubble, actually. It tickles.”

“Oh? You think I can’t still tickle you?” His voice became teasing, and you braced yourself.

“Don’t you dare, or I’ll do it back!”

“I can’t actually be tickled,” he said seriously. “My species is immune.”

You believed him for two whole astonished seconds. Then, “You liar!”

He laughed, a sound that lifted your heart, and he laid back on the cot, pulling you onto his chest. He trailed his fingers up your spine.

“You could be some other species,” you defended yourself. “How am I supposed to know if you have reptilian eyes or something?”

He kissed your forehead. “I’m human, _cyar’ika_.”

“It would have been cooler if you had reptilian eyes.”

He laughed again, and you’d do anything to keep him laughing. You adored hearing his joy.

“Do you wish I were a different species?” you asked.

“Hmm.” He fingered your hair. “I prefer lekku.”

You shrieked in outrage. “You and every other sentient being with a dick!” You elbowed him in the stomach, hard.

He let out a pained “Oof.”

“There’s a reason Twi’leks are sexualized. It’s because most of them are slaves and sex workers!”

“Easy,” he said when he’d regained his breath. “I was only messing with you.”

You supposed he’d been punished enough.

“Perhaps I can make it up to you.” He rolled you both over.

Your breath hitched at the feeling of his body atop yours. He was beautiful, you knew even if you couldn’t see, even if you’d never see, and knowing him in the darkness was enough.

He took you quietly, intimately—breath to breath and heart to heart.

\---

Mando sat on one of the crates in the cargo hull, cleaning his rifle with a grimy rag. You were at his feet, rolling a little metal ball, part of the ship, back and forth with the baby. “Our target is a man named Foto Garis,” Mando said. “He’s wanted for smuggling and tax evasion, among other things. This one is going to be a little harder than normal because he’s wealthy, hiding out on a resort planet surrounded by civilians and bodyguards.”

“So you have a plan for getting him alone?”

“I do, but I don’t like it.”

You gasped appreciatively with excessive facial expressions as the baby used the Force to roll the ball back into his hands. “Good job!” You loved children. 

“It involves using you as bait.”

You looked up, the ball forgotten. Mando had never let you join him on a mission, even when you’d asked. He must be desperate this time to think of letting you put yourself in danger.

“Foto Garis has two known weaknesses,” Mando explained, “fine liquor and women.”

“And you have access to one of those.”

“Please don’t joke about this; I hate it. You aren’t trained in combat. You can’t bring weapons with you, or he’ll suspect that something is up. I’m letting you walk into a viper wasp nest alone with the express hope that a warlord will look at you and think you’re easy prey.”

You didn’t have to ask why he was doing it if he was so nervous. When the Mandalorian took a job, he finished it. You touched his knee. “I’ll do it, and I know how serious it is.”

He nodded.

“I’ll need a new outfit. I won’t blend in at a resort planet dressed like this.” You gestured at your baggy overalls, stained with oil.

“Right. Whatever you want.”

“Did you hear that?” you asked the baby, leaning down so that you were nearly at its height. “We’re going shopping!”

\---

You stepped into the hull of the ship where Mando and the baby were waiting. “What do you think?” you asked.

Mando nearly dropped the child.

The black gown was high-necked, an upside-down V shape at your chest attached to a collar. The fabric draped loosely to a belt gathered at the waist, then hung in fluttering folds to the ground. It was the nicest thing you had ever worn.

In two slow steps, he was next to you, tracing the fabric edge that barely covered your breast.

“It’s backless, so I can’t wear a bra,” you stammered, needing to explain. “The woman helping me said it’s the fashion here.”

“You look beautiful.” He snapped out of his trance and handed you an earpiece. “I’ll be able to hear what’s going on and talk to you through this. Foto Garis is in the bar on the main floor. Try and bring him up to your room, which I’ve booked for you on the fifth floor. I’ll be there, waiting for you. From what I’ve heard, convincing him to come upstairs with you won’t be a problem.”

You could do this. Flirt with a man who wanted to be flirted with, then bring him to Mando, who would take care of actually capturing him. “What if he doesn’t want to leave the bar?”

“Then get out of there, and we’ll try something else.” Mando showed you a hologram of a man in a suit with slicked-back hair. “This is what he looks like.” 

“Got it.” You stuck the tiny earpiece on. “I’m ready.”

Mando left the ship first, getting in position in the room he’d booked. Then he signaled through the earpiece that it was time for you to move.

You circled around from the shipyard and joined the throngs of well-dressed individuals strolling to and from the dazzling golden hotel. Floating yellow lights lit the way. You ignored the glamorous surroundings and focused on your mission.

The bar was a restaurant and social hub, milling with people. You almost despaired of finding Garis when you suddenly spotted him at a table, laughing with a group of companions. “Found him,” you told Mando. You sat at the bar in view of Garis and ordered a drink.

You sipped slowly, glancing every now and then at Garis. He quickly noticed your attention, and you looked away coyly whenever he caught you staring. Finally, he excused himself from the table and made his way over to the empty chair beside you.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing here all alone?” he asked.

“I’m not alone anymore.” You were inept at flirting, but you gave it your best shot, trying to speak with smooth confidence.

“No,” he leaned on the counter, “and you won’t be for the rest of the night if I have anything to say about it.”

The two of you exchanged pleasantries—you fed him a fake name and a story about growing up on Coruscant. This was easy. Then you asked, “Would you like to join me upstairs?” And just like that, he agreed.

Garis’ bodyguard, a burly, sour-faced man, followed you two onto the lift. You went to press the fifth-floor button, but Garis hit the third instead.

Your neck began to sweat. “My room is on floor five.”

“Let’s go back to mine instead.”

Mando whispered in your ear, “Try to get him up here, but if you can’t, I’ll come to you.”

“Call it a quirk of mine,” you said, “but I prefer to do it in my own bed.”

Garis took your arm. “I promise my suite is nicer than yours. No offense intended.”

This was fine. Mando was just two floors away, and the plan could still work. But when the lift’s doors opened onto three more guards, your heart plummeted. How was he supposed to get through so many well-armed people?

Garis led you down a short hall and produced a chip key. “Here we are.”

“Room 301,” you read for Mando’s benefit. You followed him into the room, and the door slid shut with an echo of finality.

The suite was luxuriantly furnished, with glass countertops and gold filigree everywhere. Garis pulled you straight into the bedroom, and the bodyguard followed.

You tried to stall. “Does he have to be here?”

“Sorry, my dear. Security is everything. I’m an important man, you see, with many enemies.”

“But I’m not one of them.” You crossed your arms.

He laughed, a nasal sound. “No, indeed. Come here.”

“Not with an audience.”

“You’re shy!” He tsked. “What can we do about that?” Suddenly he was behind you, moving so fast you didn’t have time to react, and a knife was pressed against your throat. “Calm down, girl. I won’t hurt you if you give me what you promised by coming here with me.” The knife tilted, catching and severing the collar of your dress. The whole top half fell, unsupported.

Where was Mando? Could he hear your anxious breathing through the earpiece? Your thudding heartbeat?

“That’s better.” The knife hand dropped, and the other felt up your breast. He guided one of your hands to the top of his pants, showing you what he wanted.

You squeezed your eyes shut. You didn’t want to be here. You didn’t want to do this. Why had you agreed?

Garis spoke into your hair. “If you don’t start moving, I will go out onto the street and handpick four brutish men to rape you as long as they please and leave whatever is left of you in the gutter.”

You slid your hand into his pants.

Just then, the sounds of nearby blasterfire exploded through the room. Garis dragged you backward as the bodyguard rushed forward to help.

Mando! He was here!

Your savior burst through the door, knocking aside the bodyguard’s blaster and punching him in the face. They exchanged several blows before Mando slammed his head into the wall, and he slumped to the ground. Mando turned, a blaster pointing at you.

Garis had his knife to your neck again. “Is this your girl?” he asked Mando. “She must be, otherwise the two of you arriving at the same time would be too much of a coinc—”

The world went black.

\---

You woke up to Mando shaking you. At your side, Garis was cuffed and unconscious.

“Are you all right?” Mando asked.

“What happened?”

“I shot him with a stunner. You got the edge of it.”

You rubbed your eyes with your palms, dispelling the dizziness.

“Can you stand? We should get out of here before the local authorities arrive. I’d rather not have to deal with them.”

You stood shakily, holding up the front of your dress at the neck to cover yourself.

Mando slung Garis over his shoulder. Garis looked tiny next to Mando’s brawn, and you wondered how you had ever been frightened.

You followed him out of the room and through the lobby, ducking your head against the stares. Mando dropped a few credits on the front desk. “For your trouble,” he told the open-mouthed bellhop. And then the two of you were out the doors, making a beeline for the _Razor Crest_. No one stopped you.

Mando froze Garis in carbonite and immediately lifted the ship out of the port, into space.

You hung back in the hull, too dazed to do much of anything. You clutched your ruined dress to your chest. A few hours ago, you had felt powerful and beautiful in the flimsy silk; now you felt naked.

The baby peeked out of his pram nearby.

Mando descended from the cockpit once the ship was flying on its own. He took one look at you then busied himself storing his weapons. “I’ll take you to whatever planet you wish and leave you with plenty of money to start a new life.”

You trembled under the force of his indifference. You didn’t know what reaction you’d expected from him, but it wasn’t this. “What?”

“You’re done, you hear me? Whatever was between us is over.”

Where had you gone so wrong? “I, I’m sorry that I couldn’t stick to the plan, but—”

He slammed the door to the armory shut. “You could have been seriously hurt. I heard the vile things he said to you.” His fingers clenched into a fist. “This was all my fault. I was imbecilic to let you out there.”

Tears brimmed over. “Mando…”

“We’ve just proven that I can’t protect you anymore. It’s not safe for you to travel with me, and I should have let you go a long time ago.”

Maybe your tears triggered the baby, for he started crying too, reaching up to you plaintively. You picked him up and held onto him like a shield that would protect you from Mando’s anger. You bounced him gently, as if soothing him would soothe you. “So, I don’t go on missions anymore,” you told Mando. “Fine. But one close call doesn’t mean you dump me like a broken tool that’s served its purpose.”

“That’s not what I—” He reached for you, then pulled back his hand. “I just didn’t think you’d want me anywhere near you after putting you through that.” He sounded desperate, torn. “Tell me what to do.”

“You _idiot_. I don’t want you to push me away, I want you to _hold_ me.”

As if he’d been waiting for that command, Mando rushed to your side. He didn’t exactly hug you, but he gripped your arms for a long moment and then led you to his room. He stripped the ruined dress off you and put you in one of his shirts and a pair of his pants.

It was so sweet, and exactly what you needed. You felt covered up again, cocooned in the feeling and smell of Mando—you felt like you were home.

He removed most of his armor and laid with you on the bed, the two of you facing one another and the child between you. Like a family. He cupped your cheek and brought your forehead to his in a tender touch.

“Tell me the truth,” you said, needing to make sure that his earlier outburst had been due to fear alone. “Do you want me here?”

“Yes.” There was no hesitation. “I want you here.”

\---

You woke up in the middle of the night; you could tell because the ship’s lights were still dim. “Mando?” you whispered.

“I’m here.” He was still in the helmet, but you didn’t care. It was still him.

You didn’t know exactly what you wanted. Fewer clothes would be a good start. “Can we…?”

He seemed to understand. He picked up the baby and gently placed him in his pram, careful not to wake him. Back in bed with you, he slid his hand along your waistband. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes.” You were careful to be quiet, not just because the baby was sleeping, but because the moment seemed to call for it.

He eased the pants off of you, then fingered the shirt. It was the same one of his you had put on ages ago. “This too?”

You nodded. Maybe sex should be the last thing on your mind after your close call with Garis, but you needed the consolation of Mando’s body, reminding you that you were still his. You helped him remove the shirt, letting it drop over the edge of the bed.

He pulled his pants off and shifted closer to you. “What do you want?” he whispered.

In answer, you rolled onto your stomach.

He groaned softly and covered your body with his, easing into you from behind. One hand rested by your face, and the other trailed down your side. “I was scared for you today,” he said as he slid out, then back in.

“I was scared, too. Then you arrived, and I wasn’t anymore.”

He rested more of his weight on top of you—comforting, solid. He was surrounding you with the protection of his presence.

Mando fucked you slowly, taking his time. Working you up.

You didn’t mind the helmet, you couldn’t even see it, just hear Mando’s altered breathing, feel the press of the metal on your shoulder. You didn’t need to see his face to know him; this position was proof. The way he had taken care of you tonight was proof. His affection for you was real, and you knew him better perhaps than anyone, name or no name.

His movements became more insistent, needy.

You clutched his muscled bicep. “Mando,” you whispered.

“It’s Din.”

“What?”

“My name is Din Djarin.”

You came with his true name on your lips.

**Author's Note:**

> My boyfriend was eating me out as I wrote this. Just thought y'all should know. (I'm really out here living my best life, huh?)


End file.
